


Seasonal Prompts

by CharlRhodes



Series: Teen Wolf weight gain stories - prompts - ideas [20]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 25 Days of Christmas Prompt Challenge, 30 Days of Writing, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - High School, American Football, Baker Stiles Stilinski, Bulking, Campfires, Cheesecake, Christmas, Chub'o'ween, Chubby Derek Hale, Chubby Jackson Whittemore, Chubby Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Chubby Stiles Stilinski, Chubmas, Chubtober Challenge, Cook Stiles Stilinski, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Friendship/Love, Halloween Challenge, Horror, Kinktober 2018, Nogitsune, Nogitsune (Teen Wolf) is a Little Shit, Nogitsune is a nice guy now?, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dynamics, Pastries, Pumpkins, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) is a Ray of Sunshine, Swimming Pools, Theo Raeken is a Little Shit, Tumblr Prompt, Weight Gain, Written in 2018, but not really, gaining weight, obesity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlRhodes/pseuds/CharlRhodes
Summary: Collection of prompts written for Chubtober, Chub'O'Ween, and Chubmass
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Teen Wolf weight gain stories - prompts - ideas [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1108038
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	1. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 1 - Something Tight

**CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 1 - Something Tight**

Stiles perfectly knew his best friend/brother had put on on weight since the end of the summer. Scott had mentioned on several occasions the pounds he had packed on.

But Stiles had been flabbergasted when he had seen the young werewolf for the first time since he left for college.

Scott McCall had worn a light grey tank top that had barely covered his belly. It had been tightly stretched around his chest and had obscenely displayed his belly button. Now, he hadn't looked fat, but his stomach was definitely softer, and there was no doubt it had grown, especially when Stiles thought about how flat and defined Scott’s belly was.

"Hey, bro!"


	2. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 4 - Cool weather/Cuddle

**CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 4 - Cool weather/Cuddle**

“I’m cold.”

Stiles was standing at the entrance of the bedroom at 3 a.m.

“Arg! You’re insufferable, human!” No groaned.

Since they managed to separate Stiles from the Nogitsune, several months ago, they had let him stay with them to keep an eye on him even if he had lost all his powers.

At first, they had to teach him how to live and act like a human, and if he had been a pain in the ass, he had adapted very well. Maybe a little too well. Still, he had a dark, snarky sense of humour and it had been weird for Stiles to have a “twin”. Twin was not the world he could use, certainly because No had been plateauing at 360 pounds—a fat version of Stiles resulting from filling his hunger with food instead of pain. And boy, No was perpetually hungry.

At least he was not a total killing-psychopath anymore.

“And you are the only one sleeping alone. And for the record, I’m always cold because you decided to possess me.” Stiles said, clutching his blanket closer to him trying to look miserable. “Plus you are the most insulated person of this house.”

No raised his eyebrow at him and before Stiles could blink, he had been thrown off his feet and onto No’s overinflated but still soft belly. He was now lying down on top of No and felt large, heavy arms on his back. With the slight grin on his face, Stiles knew No was going to be mischievous, and as he tried freeing himself, he just sank more into his “twin” soft flesh while his thick paws were holding him in place.

“So, you want insulation?” No grinned before rolling himself on top of Stiles.

With now a massive smirk on his lips, he started to wiggle and Stiles could feel his fat squashing him a bit more.

“Sooooo…. Still cold?” he chortled as he wiggled more.

"You’re…Freaking…HUGE” Stiles said trying to get free.

“Stay still and enjoy my act of kindness.” Stiles felt No’s nose in the crook of his neck, knowing that No knew Stiles did not dislike it, before yawning.

"Sleep now.”

And a few seconds later, the man fell asleep on top of Stiles. He tried to shake him awake, but the former Nogitsune was in a deep sleep, as proven by his loud snoring.

He thought about calling one of the werewolves to help him escape this blubbery prison, but it was actually kind of nice to a large, warm, teddy bear lying to hold while sleeping.

At least, he wasn’t cold anymore.


	3. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 5 - Something ripped

**CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 5 - Something ripped**

It was exceptionally warm for this time of the year, so with his uncle Peter, Derek had decided to enjoy a well-deserved afternoon off.

Getting into his swimsuits, Derek felt uncomfortable in them, given they were now really close to snap open and accentuated his love handles.

“Jesus Peter, look at how fat I’m getting.” He said and slapping his belly, a bit embarrassed.

“Yes, nephew, you are getting pretty soft, but I think I’m the biggest one here. I tip the scales at 260 now.” Peter had indeed become a really hefty man with somehow still shaped fat pecs, a big gut that hung over his trunks and two well-formed love handles.

As Derek was about to dive, he felt his bigger ass imprisoned in his swimsuits swaying behind him, his belly actively forcing against the waistband as he bent to jump, before it shredded, letting the belly push forward and have room.

Embarrassed, Derek hid himself in the water, growling at his uncle’s taunting and recommendation to buy an extra-sized swimsuit.


	4. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 5 - Something ripped

**CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 5 - Something ripped**

It was exceptionally warm for this time of the year, so with his uncle Peter, Derek had decided to enjoy a well-deserved afternoon off.

Getting into his swimsuits, Derek felt uncomfortable in them, given they were now really close to snap open and accentuated his love handles.

“Jesus Peter, look at how fat I’m getting.” He said and slapping his belly, a bit embarrassed.

“Yes, nephew, you are getting pretty soft, but I think I’m the biggest one here. I tip the scales at 260 now.” Peter had indeed become a really hefty man with somehow still shaped fat pecs, a big gut that hung over the waistband of his speedos and two well-formed love handles.

As Derek was about to dive, he felt his bigger ass imprisoned in his swimsuits swaying behind him, his belly actively forcing against the waistband as he bent to jump, before it shredded, letting the belly push forward and have room.

Embarrassed, Derek hid himself in the water, growling at his uncle’s taunting and recommendation to buy an extra-sized swimsuit.


	5. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 6 - Spooky Story

**CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 6 - Spooky Story**

When it came to spooky stories, Allison Argent was indisputably the best. Thanks to the ‘mythical non-so-mythical’ fairytales, her parents had fed her during childhood; she had, since then, mastered in finding the scariest stories.

She even managed to scare Peter Hale once. And that was a tough one, nothing like those puppy-chaws Scott-Isaac-Erica.

So when she had started a new story, Stiles Stilinski had curled a bit more on himself, finding comfort in feeling the warmth coming on from Derek. Sure he was not the type of guy easily scared, but damn, Allison could always find the scariest, goriest ones. Plus she had made her personal mission to scare Derek. He was still the only one who had resisted her.

So, as the different members of the pack had psychologically prepared themselves, Allison started to walk behind them around the campfire.

Her sweet voice was beginning to tell the story, and for once Stiles thanked his ADHD because he was focussed on how warm the weather was for the season and had started to compare it to the prior years.

As he, unsurprisingly, concluded that weather was a tricky thing and how it would be so cool to work in weather forecasting, Allison bent over, her mouth close to Derek’s ear.

"….Even the puppies," she said darkly.

And the unthinkable happened: Derek’s face showed fear. 

His eyes were open wide and, to Stiles’ surprise, the Alpha suddenly jumped in the air. Just half a second later, Stiles felt a heavyweight and dense mass landing on him. Derek was clung on Stiles, hiding his face in his neck, shaking in fear. 

For a moment, Stiles was speechless, trying to understand what in Allison's story could have triggered such a reaction, realising he had really paid any attention before having his thighs crushed by Derek’s way bigger ones. He spent several minutes soothing the werewolf, his hands caressing Derek meaty body.

Allison grinned at her victory but was genuinely surprised with Derek's reaction. Obviously, she had hoped he would have been a bit scared, but now the werewolf - who was twice her size - was paralysed by fear. While some of the others were smiling at the scene, as big, huge, built like a lineman Derek, was held by tiny defenceless Stiles, who was glaring at the huntress.

"Come on Der, let’s go inside."

The wolf grudgingly let Stiles go, looking down and still shaking, and the younger man took his meaty hand and led him to the house. He went to the kitchen, prepared hot cocoa with marshmallows and a piece of apple pie before going back to Derek. As soon as Stiles sat next to him, Derek pulled his mighty weight on Stiles’ lap while he was drinking the cup. Stiles smiled fondly at the man and put a comforting arm around the massive wolf.

Aaaah… Their all-mighty-fearless-built-like-a-house-(are you calling me fat Stiles?!)-Alpha.


	6. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 8 - Pumpkin Spices

**CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 8 - Pumpkin Spices**

It was a tradition for the Pack of Beacon Hill to gather every Saturday for lunch. It was what they called "bonding time". Each one in the Pack knew their role. Scott was in charge of drinks, Lydia the main course, Isaac the cheese, Erica and Boyd setting the table, Derek providing the loft and Stiles was in charge of desserts.

But that Saturday, a new addition planned to contribute for this lunch. Theo, said latest addition, to Stiles' great displeasure, suggested he would bring dessert, Stiles condescendingly suggested he should be in charge of the salad.

Dessert was Stiles' exclusive. Especially since it was socially acceptable to bake seasonal autumn pies. Stiles was a pumping spice lover. He put it in everything from coffee to cake and even in sauces.

Even with the presence of Theo, they had a good time that Saturday. Until the dessert.

"Hey", Lydia said to Derek, "so how's the training going?" Usually, every Saturday mornings were wolves' training with Derek.

But before Derek could answer, Stiles arrived with a creamy, decadent pumpkin spice cheesecake; Derek's favourite.

"Come on, let's dig into the cake. It looks amazing." The Alpha greedily said as Stiles put a generous piece in his plate. Derek stopped at the first bite and looked at Stiles amazed. "Wow!"

The other members of the Pack soon followed him. "Oh my God. That is like the best cheesecake you've ever made." Scott said to his best friend, clapping him on the shoulder before going shoving another generous portion in his mouth.

Stiles beamed at the comment. "Well, thank you. I don't think I did anything differently." He said, faking modesty.

Then he took a bite and stopped when he felt the flavour.

"This is not my cheesecake."

One by one, the wolves and Lydia stopped eating, looking at Stiles incredulously, shocked about the affirmation of the human.

Then Stiles looked suspiciously at Theo, who was smirking at him. The others followed, slowly realising what was going on.

"Okay, you caught me." Theo laughed. "It's mine."

'How dare he?!' Stiles thought. "What happened to the cheesecake that I brought?"

"Oh I was a little sneaky, and I put in the fridge. I just wanted you to try mine. Everyone says you're such an amazing baker and I was hoping you could give me some tips to improve my recipe." Theo explained.

Stiles did his best to contain his rage. "Clearly, no tips are needed. As my friend said, best cheesecake ever made." He added his voice full of venom.

The silence in the room was so heavy that even Derek and Scott, the most gluttonous wolves ever created, didn't touch the remains of their cheesecake.

"So back to training. How's that been?" Asked Lydia to Derek, cautiously looking at Stiles, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, so far, not that bad." Answered Derek as equally cautious.

———

The Sheriff was staring at the numerous cheesecakes on the counter of his kitchen, his son still fuming, mixing ingredients for his ninth cheesecake.

"He upstaged your Pumpkin Spice Cheesecake? You've gotta be kidding, son."

"I'm not. That despicable chimaera was just supposed to bring a simple green salad." Stiles added a bit more of spice in his mixing. "He not only brought a cheesecake, but he also hid mine and served his!" He added fuming.

"That's beyond despicable, that's culinary terrorism!" The Sheriff offered, but Stiles was so focussed right now, he did not raise the apparent mocking from his father.

"Oh, it gets worse. His cheesecake was better than mine!" He added, pouring the mixing angrily into the cheesecake plate.

"Impossible!"

"It's true. Everyone thought so. Even me." He said dejectedly and continued his rambling about Theo. "Oh and that simple green salad. Mosh and baby arugula with duck confit and candied walnuts!"

"He plays to win, son."

"I have been here for hours trying to replicate his recipe, and nothing has even come close!" He groaned, putting another cheesecake on the counter.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, son." He said eating one of the cheesecake. "This one's fantastic!"

He looked murderously at his father "That's his!!" He yelled.

The Sheriff looked sheepish and pushed away the piece of cake from him. "Sorry."

"What am I gonna do? "

"Just ask him for his recipe?"

"What? Surrender? Debase myself? "He said offended his father could suggest such a thing." I make it for Thanksgiving, pack dinners and bake sales for the Police station. If he's always right there behind me with HIS superior version, he will have stolen my entire identity." He said, hitting his head on the counter, defeated.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far." His father said, putting a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "Hey, Derek." He greeted the werewolf as he entered the Stilinski's kitchen before letting the two of them alone, glad to escape his son's madness.

"Stiles"

"Leave me alone, Derek." He groaned. "Go all with your new dessert guy."

"Stiles, Theo fooled you…"

"Yes, he did!"

"…Stiles…"

"He's stealing my place!"

"He bought it in a bakery Stiles!" Derek said, annoyed the human was not listening to him.

"He's gonna take over every… Wait! What?!" He screamed, shocked.

"He told us he bought it in a bakery. We scowled at him."

"You mean YOU scowled at him." Stiles pointed.

"Scott mostly did the scowling."

Stiles looked at the werewolf, surprised and relieved. "You mean I'm still the best baker of the pack?" He said expectantly.

"Of course."

Stiles lunged at the wider werewolf and hugged him. "Can you help me with the cheesecakes, please?" He mumbled, his face buried in Derek's soft body.

"There are nine cheesecakes Stiles…"

"Actually, there are two more in the fridge." He pointed.

"Even I can't eat that much."

"Come on," Stiles said, pushing the werewolf in a seat, which groaned under the wolf's weight, "It's your favourite! And I do perfectly know you can't resist pumpkin spice stuff." He said slapping the wolf's belly.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms. "Come one Pumpkinwolf, don't huff and puff. Just enjoy the cakes, or maybe Scott could take care of it?"

Mentioning the younger Alpha, and the second biggest wolf of the Pack, always worked on Derek. They still had this sort of alpha-I-can-do-better-than-you friendly competition.

"Don't you dare," Derek said, flashing his red eyes at Stiles while cutting a large piece for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story was inspired by an episode from the fourth season of Desperate Housewives where Bree Van De Kamp and Katherine Mayfair fight over who bakes the best Lemon Pie. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	7. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 9 - Something small

**CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 9 - Something small**

Scott slowly lifted himself from the bed he had spent the major part of his day. His bulky gut spread several feet in front of him and had seriously started to slump own his hairy tree trunk legs. He wandered his inflated bulk to where Stiles was standing and as every time his feet hit the wooden floor, Stiles could testify it caused the whole room to shake, just a bit.

"Watch this bro," Scott said, bumping the lighter boy with his girth.

He bent down and gave Stiles a good show of his overstretched red briefs covering his extensively generous bottom. Scott slowly dragged his oversized jeans up over his thighs and fought to get them buttoned; the buttons not even coming near each other. His belly jiggled as he tried, but it had been clear the jeans had no longer fitted him for some time now.

Stiles was silent with bewilderment, mouth agape, and Scott noticed.

"It's all from late-night snacking, eating contests I have with Derek and your influence," he said, patting his mammoth belly and flashing his eyes red.

Stiles watched, mesmerised at this glorious gut, astounded at the sheer size of it. He still couldn't believe he got his best friend this big.

Scott just stood there, giving his gut a good rub when it started to rumble.

"Well bro, I need refilling," he said, slapping it gently with a smile and winked at Stiles.

He headed out the door, still in his boxers, and went downstairs, as Stiles could hear the loud cracking of the stair under the massive wolf's weight.


	8. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 10 - Football

# CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 10 - Football

#  June.

At the beginning of the summer, Stiles Stilinski had received his workout plan for the track and field school team; as, Coach's words, he had the typical runner body: tall, lithe muscles and flexibility.

Therefore for the entire summer, he had to run at least three times a week and had resistance and endurance workouts the other days. It had been a nice way to fill his summer between hanging out with Scott and volunteering -his father obliging him- at the station.

For Scott McCall, summer plans had been different. He was on the BH High School football team and the only thing Coach Finstock had told him at the end of the season was to bulk up; even if bulking up had not been something Scott had a problem with given he had never been a small guy. He was 5'10 for a good 270 pounds with two broad padded pecs above his round and solid gut, thick arms, wide buttcheeks and thunder thighs. His mission for the summer was to pack on pounds as the coach wanted to create a wider and heavier team. Unfortunately for him, he could no work at Deaton this summer; the vet choosing to close his shop to travel around. Scott was so condemned to spend his summer relaxing at home, meeting with Stiles and friends from school.

#  Begining of August.

Stiles entered the McCall's house after finishing his now usual 15 miles morning run. The summer had been good on him; he was now fitter and tanner than ever. His muscles were now defined, not because he was underweight, but, thanks to the 15 pounds he had put on this summer. He weighted himself that morning at 165.

Scott was another story.

He took some healthy food from Melissa in the cupboard went to the leaving room where Scott was sitting. He had obviously finished his breakfast as Stiles could spot empty folders of pop tarts, an empty gallon of milk and a plate that had undoubtedly been full of eggs and bacon.

Right now, he was chugging down his usual protein shake and was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, the only thing he wore during the past months; it was pretty clear to Stiles that Scott had put on a large amount of weight since June.

Granted, he always had been big and thick all over, especially compared to his best friend, but he never had such a protruding gut and had never looked that soft through the chest, arms and thighs.

"Morning," Stiles said as he sat on the couch with his tray of food, his friend lazily answering back, still busy trying to get every last drop of his shake.

"How's the training's doing man?" He asked. "Because you look so fit, how much do you weigh now?"

"I've gained 15 pounds this summer. All muscle bro." Stiles flexed his arm proudly, trying to impress his friend. 

"Good job! » He replied genuinely. "That's some serious gains man." He said, smiling brightly at his friend. "I've done some serious ones too: 50 pounds since school ended. Up to 320 pounds now, all muscle too."

Stiles chocked on his Gatorade and let out an involuntary laugh; how in heaven could you gain 50 pounds in three months? Was that even possible? And how can you think it was all muscle?

Obviously, Scott was proud of his gains and stood to show all his bulk, his underwears highlighting all the curves of his thighs and bottom.

Stiles could, then, believe how Scott had been able to pack on so much weight as he was exhibiting the results of his lazy lifestyle under Stiles' nose, still unaware he was starting to look like a blimp. 

#  The weekend before the football tryouts.

Stiles made his way downstairs to the kitchen, as he had spent the night at the McCalls' playing video games with his best friend, where he saw Scott, looking as obese as ever, still wearing his usual inside-attire: a single pair of skin-tight (but larger than in August) underwears.

It was official, Scott McCall looked as big as a whale with huge and globular buttcheeks supported by tree trunks thighs always rubbing one another and under a massive tray of fat in the back, forming two generous love handles.

As Scott turned around and faced Stiles, the runner got a full-on look of the enormous footballer. As they were younger, Stiles always considered Scott as massive; now it was in new proportions because the boy was huge with his massive-soft-round-calling-for-attention ball of lard for a gut. Stiles guessed that thing must have stuck out enough for Scott to forget he had feet (not that he had used them that often this summer). Resting on it were two fat pecs, with more fat than muscle now, that could safely be named as moobs. His already soft face had now a more prominent double chin, and the beginning of a third one, that was attached on his jaw, melting with now permanents chipmunk cheeks.

If in August Scott already was a blimp, he created a new definition of it now as not a single place on his body that wasn't covered in lard.

He was making his morning protein shake, as he always did.

"Hey bro," He mumbled through a mouthful of pop tarts.

"Hey," Stiles answered, opening the fridge to take some milk. "Guess who just weighed in at 360 pounds of pure muscle?" The dark-haired teen asked his friend. "This guy! » Scott lifted his arms proudly as though he was flexing his muscles.

The number left Stiles astonished; 360 pounds. In the time of five months, his best friend had almost put on one hundred pounds.

Scott was undoubtedly kidding him. He could not but fooled by the fact he was on the obese range now and that he certainly had no muscle left showing. All he did all day was laying on the couch, shoving food in his mouth, and drinking those shakes. Stiles perfectly knew the man hadn't put a single foot in a gym since the beginning of the summer.

"I'm happy with the gains, and I'm pretty sure the coach will be too. That's the best bulking season I've ever had." He said through a mouthful of food before slapping his belly and 'flexing' to show off all his 'muscle'.

Stiles was now considering betting on Finstock's heart attack when he would see the size of Scott.

"Doesn't 'bulking' require some lifting as well?" Stiles asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible, even if it was not hard to manipulate Scott.

"Well, the guys also bulked well, but I'm in the top ten at least!" He exclaimed, chugging the remainder of his shake. "You know coach wants a big team this year." Stiles had the intuition the coach didn't think of that sort of big tho.

Suddenly, Stiles felt a strong urge to attend the football tryouts on the following Monday; just to see if Coach Finstock's plan had worked, even if there was no doubt for Stiles it did.


	9. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 11 - Indulgence

#  CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 11 - Indulgence

Peter Hale was in a foul mood as he slammed the door to his flat, a little out of breath from the walk from the downstairs parking.

'Another useless pack meeting' he told himself. Since he had bitten Scott, almost three years ago, and since they had decided to act like a real pack, Peter was frustrated; excluding Stiles and Miss Martin, the members of the Beacon Hill pack were a bunch of useless, dysfunctional idiots. The vain Jackson Whittemore, Scot McCall which Peter had countlessly regretted to bite as the boy turned into a puppy, Isaac Lahey who offered nothing and of course his nephew, Derek, who didn't even know to act as a real Alpha.

He needed his daily indulgence; finding out sugar had the fantastic effect of calming him down after pack meetings. The first times it was just one doughnut, after all, he told himself at that time, only one can do no wrongs.

But one doughnut, after few weeks, became two, then three and now, three years later, he was leaving the bakery with three boxes of the greasy-sugary treat. What could he say? He needed his sugar to boost his mood and to forget he was surrounded by idiots momentarily.

After getting rid of his too-tight clothes, especially his shirt, the former Alpha planted himself down on his couch stuffing a whole doughnut in his mouth, instantly feeling better. Yes, those kinds of indulgences allowed his nerves to get some well-deserved rest; even if, as always, his grumpy mood made him eating the content of the boxes ravenously.

He groaned a bit when he threw down the last empty box on the floor, his gut painfully satisfied from being full. His mood was way better now, and he patted it smugly; that thing, like the rest of him, had grown as the numbers on the scale climbed to reach a freshly 302 pounds. He had been aware that he was piling weight on, and faster than he had been before because those daily indulgences combined with constant lazying at home through the day; that could have been prevented if those useless teenagers had started to listen to him.

To be honest, he liked that; he had realised after a year of indulgences that his appetite had grown too because those treats were simply comfort-food. Each day he consumed an obscene amount of food, making his colossal belly swelling larger and his fat breasts sagging further.

If someone had pointed lack of self-control, Peter Hale would have accused his Pack's incompetence; they were the reason he had to over-indulge to feel better. If they were as he wished they were, he would still have his trimmed waist, but now he was not far from doubling his old weight, he had found them a tiny bit less unbearable.

Now, he had to take a quick nap and digest before going out to dinner.


	10. CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 12 - Eating contest

#  CHUBTOBER CHALLENGE - Day 12 - Eating contest

Stiles came back home after a long day of classes only to find his two housemates, as usual, fighting. He hadn't even opened the door, as he could hear their voice shouting at each other.

Theo and Jackson were great. They helped with cleaning the house, with paying the bills, with furnishing the home they shared and grocery shopping. They were respectful and helpful. But, even if the two men were good friends, there was an unsolved rivalry between the two involving everything since their early teens; who was the fastest, the strongest, the smartest, the most well dressed, the most popular at flirting etc.…

Most of the time, the teasing was funny to witness, but then they had to parade their superiority. It, every single time, resulted in Stiles being obliged to pick up the pieces (sometimes literally picking up the pieces).

Right now, his two obese housemates, still in work clothes, were arguing while taping on their smartphones.

"You still can quit Raeken. I'd hate to humiliate you…again!"

"Please, I let you win the last time."

"Loser's words."

"Shut up, Whittemore!"

"Face it! I'm going to beat you. I'm way bigger than you. I can pack more food in that gut!"

"Please, last weekend I had more pizzas than you and I finished the Ben and Jerry's while you were groaning about how stuffed you were!"

"I had a big brunch that day…"

"Loser's words! And for your information I'm almost as big as you, so shut up!"

"I'm still the biggest!"

"Shut up! What kind of ice cream do you want? Cookie dough?"

"Yes"

"Posh ass! And don't forget to use the coupon for the Chinese. One meal bought one offered."

"As if you could finish two supersized Chinese meals, a pizza, three burritos and ice cream, Raeken?"

"How could you?"

"I'll do it even if I burst just to prove you I'm better at overeating!"

"That's what I'LL do, Jackass!"

'Great another fun night at the house'. Stiles wished he could have had a quiet and monotonous evening with his roommates. Promptly he would have to hear all their bickering for the next hours before dealing with their indigestions because the two of them would refuse to quit. Of course, he would have to be cautious not to favour one of them; otherwise, the other would sulk for days until Stiles deals with their confidence issues.

"And Stiles will be the judge!"

"Wait, wait. Don't drag me into your 'I'm the better' stuff."

"Just make sure Whittemore doesn't cheat."

"What do you imply Raeken?"

"I don't imply anything, just stating the truth."

"Guys…guys… you don't have to prove anything, you know?"

"Don't try Stilinski!"

"Yeah, Stilinski, just because you can't compete doesn't mean you have to forbid us to."

"Well, try anyway, guys. I DO consider Scott as the biggest eater. After all, he has at least 50 pounds on you." Stiles said smugly, loving how annoyed the two fat guys were looking.

"I can out-eat McCall!"

"I can do it too!"

"Call him Raeken. I'm going to upgrade our orders."

"Deal!"

'How god… what have I done?' Though Stiles. As long as the three of them cleaned the house after, it was not a big deal. Maybe he could call Alison and Lydia for a drink elsewhere, leaving the three hippos to overeat. Or perhaps he could indeed be the judge, and making sure to take some pictures…


	11. Chub'O'Ween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Happy Halloween 🎃
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy this story! A reader kindly reminded me I had forgotten about mentioning that:  
> Some of you might recognize the plot. It's heavily inspired by Starving Anonymous. It is a manga, a bit more gory and spooky than this story in my opinion. But if you like this story, I invite you to check this manga.
> 
> :)
> 
> Have a good day!

It was almost 11.30 pm when Stiles passed the Hale house gate. He should have made it earlier if his father had allowed him to go to Derek's Halloween party. Scott had invited him as his plus one because Stiles was always the plus one. Not that he expressly wanted to go to that party; he was going because Derek Hale was throwing a party. 

The mysterious, elusive, scowly Derek Hale had announced to his lacrosse teammates they were invited to celebrate Halloween; that intrigued Stiles because despite being one of the most popular kids in the school, Derek did not do the things popular kids do. He had never dated one of the cheerleaders, he never went to Homecoming or Prom, and never attended a party; so throwing one sounded abnormal. Still, he had not been sure he had been really invited and that Scott was just nice as he was the only one considering Stiles as a member of the lacrosse team and not just the benchwarmer. But Stiles' father had decided to spoil the mood by forbidding him to go to that party with - Stiles would defend it - fallacious reasons. The party was certainly going on by now; he had to wait for his dad's departure at the favour of some kids' shenanigans on the other side of the town to sneak out. 

The Hales were living outside the city, at the beginning of Beacon Hill Preserve, and being honest, Stiles was not really at ease on his bike in the middle of the night and the forest. Afterall, people had disappeared in the past. 

He finally arrived at the Hales and spotted Jackson's Porsches and Scott old motorbike. He leaned his bike against the expensive car and made his way to the front porch, but before even climbing the stairs, he jumped at the sound of a loud howl. If someone asked, he would say it was predictable to put on some tricks like that. Afterall, there were no wolves in California. 

The door was ajar, he pushed it, but to his surprised, he was welcomed with utter silence and darkness. He tried to call Scott, but it went straight to voicemail; which was weird because Scott was more of the 'I put my phone on silence and never answer'. His last text dated back from 8 pm, when Scott had arrived, late, at the party. Then nothing. Weirder...

He wandered in the hall to find himself in front of a big patio door in the Hales' living room opening onto the garden. The only source of light in the dark of the scariest night of the year was coming from a barn, at the other side of the lawn. 

Stiles opened the door and started to walk there faster than necessary, the creepiness of the place bothering him. It was weird to have a barn in this part of California Stiles told himself. The Hales are rich; they certainly built it to welcome guests or for parties like tonight. It was not a cold night, but he found himself having goosebumps. Only the moon was lightening the lawn, allowing Stiles to see where he was going, still growing ill at ease with the silence.  
He was only feet away from the wooden building when he finally heard a strange noise. To his surprise it was not music, laughter or people partying; it sounded familiar but so tricky to describe to the teenager, but the closest thing that popped into his head was swallowing or maybe slurping.

He pulled the door, and when his eyes adapted to the bright, industrial-like light that had blinded him, his eyes were opened wide with shock.

The place was filled with large masses Stiles assumed were persons. Hugely inflated persons. 

"What the hell..." Stiles wondered, tripping on something soft and squishy. On his butt, he moved away when he realised the obstacle was a human being. Said human being was distorted with fat wearing remnants of clothes. The human's thighs were spilling over his calves, dimpled and soft. His upper arms were the size of pillows, holding a tube to his mouth. The obese cheeked face was greedily sucking into the tube, his impressive chins and swollen, sagging breast jiggling with each gulp. But the most remarkable sight of this immobile pile of tanned flesh was his big and overflowing belly. Dread filled Stiles as he realised the man looked like his teammate, Danny. 

All of the people sucking and expanding in the barn were members of the Lacrosse team. 

Stiles was petrified. He had to do something, but all the guys were ignoring him, too engrossed in drinking a mysterious liquid from the tubes. 

They were all here, most of them completely naked with a blissful look on their face. 

They look like cattle. 

Scott! Scott might be one of them! And he might not be in such a state if his dark-haired friend had arrived later than the others. Still, as some were already approaching immobility, Stiles just hoped Scott would be easier to take back home. 

Unbothered by his presence, the hypnotised teenagers were too focussed on gulping the addictive liquid to remarks Stiles checking them to find his best friend. He recognised so many familiar faces among them, his heart ached. Greenburg who was laying on his side, the mass of his gut resting on the floor; Jackson Whittemore, the captain, the vainest jock of them all, on his fattened knees, his underwears almost completely tore on his expanded rear.

Stiles was relieved when he saw that the member on the team still standing was a familiar tanned boy with a dark mop on his head. 

"Scott," he yelled, running to his friends, dodging between the bodies, "It's you!" 

The mysterious substance Scott was still drinking at taken a toll on the boy. Far from Jackson's or Danny's size, his best friend had started to spill out of his clothes; his jeans ripped at the waist, from which his bottom stuck out; his shirts barely coming down to his deeper bellybutton and losing battle to cover his growing love handles at all.

Scott finally spotted Stiles in front of him and decided to stop his drinking momentarily. 

"Oh, hey..." Scott greeted Stiles, as if the situation was not bothering him, wiping his mouth, spreading a bunch of the syrupy liquid on his cheeks. "It's...you...Stiles." The fattened boy articulated with difficulty, as if he was saying a complicated word they had to learn for the SAT. 

  
Like the rest of his body, Scott's face had softened to the point that fat had almost made disappear his crooked jaw with chins and swollen cheeks. 

"What the hell is going on here?" Stiles shouted frantically, contrasting with the passive and docile attitude of his best friend. "We need to leave now!"

"Mo...More...important..." Scott started, catching his breath, making his chin and man breast wobbling. "This stuff..." He showed the tube he had in his throat a moment before. "It's... real good." His smile he gave Stiles making his fat cheeks and chins even more pronounced. Still, Scott's eyes, despite looking happy, seemed so dulled to Stiles, as if the man, not a genius, to begin with, had regressed. 

Scott kept pushing the tube in the direction of Stiles, the syrup flowing at a steady pace. 

It seemed good, indeed, and the smell was so sweet it started to make Stiles drools. He quickly changed his mind. They had to leave now. Scott looked confused like a puppy when he saw his best friend taking typing on his phone before shoving the tube into his mouth. Instantly, he forgot the presence of his best friend to enjoy the syrup. 

"Come on," Stiles muttered, "Answer," he pleaded his phone as he was ringing his father. He could not hear the sound of his thoughts as the situation was unthinkable. Scott and his teammates...The Hales kidnapping them...Fattening them... Why? How? And what next? He could not think straight; he could not do something to stop all that... They were going to...

"Stiles," his father's voice cutting off his thoughts. The voice grew worried when the Sherriff could hear the laboured breath of his son. "Stiles, kiddo, calm down. Tell me what's going on." He said gently but urgently at the same time. 

"They are fattened up like...like...They did that!" 

"Stiles, Stiles," The Sherriff cut him. "You don't make any sense. I'm coming home. I'll be here soon, kiddo." He could hear his father closing his car's door and the siren turning on. 

"I'm at the Hales!" Stiles shouted. "They are doing something! To Scott...To the others!"

He heard his father sighting loudly. "Stiles, I told you to stay at home tonight."

"But, you have to do..."

"Run," his father ordered. "Run and drive home as fast as you can, do not turn back." He said quickly. 

"But Scott!" Stiles protested. He could not leave his best friend here when the Hale manifestly did something! And his father knew it.

"You have to! And don't drink any of their stuff, it destroys your will after one sip," The Sherriff shouted back. "I'm so, so sorry, son." The man added, crying. 

"Please, run." He begged his son.

Stiles felt his phone slip out of his hand. He glanced at Scott, engrossed in gulping more liquid. The boy had been his best friend, but now he had realised the fattened version of him was just a mindless zombie. Scott was gone now. "Sorry, man," he murmured softly, before running to escape from this trap. 

He was almost out of the barn when he felt a strong hand digging into his chest. On the floor, he looked up to see a monster.

The humanoid beast was growling at him. His face, somewhat human, was distorted and hairy with sharp fangs, glowing yellow eyes and razor-sharp claws. 

The beast was approaching his prey, scowly. He was just inches from his face when he started sniffing him. Stiles could feel tear swelling up in his eyes, as he did his best to hold his breath. 

He was going to die. He will not see his father ever again. 

Slowly, he looked, horrified, the beastly face melting away to reveal such a familiar face; Derek Hale. Derek Hale was a shape-shifting monster. 

That could not be. That as to be prothesis and good makeup. Maybe it was a huge, elaborated but not-so-funny prank. 

The man before him eyed him up. He could see his lips move, but could not understand the words, as they were murmured. Maybe Derek was just trying to calm him he though. Then he heard multiple howls behind him. Wolves. Shape-shifting wolves Stiles realised.

"Did you see what's in here?" He growled, not waiting for an answer, he grabbed Stiles and pushed him back into the building, making Stiles crash with Danny's body, who simply looked at him dumbly. 

"Uncle Peter says you have some catching to do," Hale said." You'll be delicious." He added, eyeing him hungrily. 

"What? What do you mean by..." Stiles protested, before feeling a tube being shoved far into his throat. 'No! Not me!" He started crying when he realised they were going to be Hales' Halloween dinner tonight. They were in a breeding facility...for humans. It was pretty much what it looked like. Once they are all round and fattened, like pigs. Because if the Hales were wolves, Stiles and his friends were pigs. 

He understood a lot of things now. Why the Hales were so secretive. Why Beacon Hills County had a steady flow of missing persons. Why his father did not want him to go to that party. Why Scott and the others could not keep their mouth out of these tubes. Scott was right; the syrup was so good. But even if it was harmful, and that he still should try to leave. He was going to be eaten. But it was so good. Yet he had to tell someone to stop them. 

'I just...don't care anymore.' Stiles though had he felt his pants button popping. 


	12. Chubmas - McChub, Biglinski & Slobmore - Christmas Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Special Chapter of McChub & Biglinski

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I advise you to read this one to have some context
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17787377/chapters/50505398

Christmas Special Chapter of this [Story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17787377/chapters/50505398)

Stiles reached his hand into the supersized pint of ice cream under his arm, shovelling out a large spoonful and delivering it to his impatient mouth; taking no of notice the creamy, cookie-dough flavour on his taste buds as he had already shovelled another gallon of the chilled dessert down his throat over the last half hour. He slowly moved his jaws and as the ice cream melted in his mouth, each subtle motion causing his chin to dig into the fat of his neck and upper chest. His plump fingers were sticky, but he did not care; all he cared about was filling the little space available in his stomach despite the Christmas feast he had devoured. 

Their small assembly of four extra-large men had feasted, on a decadent Christmas' Eve dinner, Stiles had summoned. If the meal would have cost the Stilinskis a couple hundred, it had taken the magical teenager mere seconds to make it appear on the table; stuffed turkey, roast beef, mashed potatoes, foie gras, gravy and different kind of Yule logs and pies.   
Only the Sheriff had gone to bed, with a remaining bourbon pecan pie with him, to digest; the poor man had tried to keep up with his voracious official son and honorary ones. Notwithstanding outstanding efforts, he had decided to skip the traditional movie night when he had started passing out on his chair and clothes being unbearably uncomfortable. 

Though Stiles had upgraded their used and abused couch to a larger and comfier one, his broad posterior and his billowing abdomen filled nearly half of it, with the edges of his wide bigness pressing up against Scott bigger one, who was sitting across from him. Together, their gelatinous buttocks and cascading girths covered every square inch of cushions on the couch, with the tips of their paunches spilling over the top of their barrel-sized legs and down toward the floor.

Laying on a myriad of blankets, pillows and fat-filled belly, Jackson was facing the television. While the Michelin-shaped man's weight was forcing the pale stuffed flesh to spread out at his sides, the round sphere was lifting his butt cheeks into the air like a pair of oversized water balloons, swaying with every slight movement he made to reach the foot-long Friends inspired sandwich he had begged Stiles to make appear. Afterall, a layered sandwich filled with pulled ham hock, pulled turkey, smoky butternut crush, sharp red cabbage, cheddar cheese and a slice of sourdough steeped in turkey and cranberry gravy was better than the endless supply of deep-fried twinkies Scott was shovelling inside his flabby mouth to round his enormous gut even more.

This Christmas scene had not been unusual, just an excuse to have, maybe, more food than usual; days of being glutted into the couch, binging on series, video games and gorging had been maintained by their extreme laziness, the fact they had long passed the morbid-obesity threshold and Stiles abilities. The magic, the boy had gladly provided, had surrounded them in a constant state of comfort that they had all given into, more or less willingly as Jackson had not yet fulfilled his first year as a supersized man. 

They did not need to worry about getting up, going to the kitchen or the store to get more food; food, in every shape, taste and quantity was brought to them. 

They did not have to worry about training or staying in shape; they did not need to anymore as they had passed a size where people would consider getting up and walking to their bedroom as physical activity. 

They did not even need to worry about their waning mobility; all they needed was Stiles to give a push to stand up, their barrel-sized legs virtually useless as they had been long since buried under layer after layer of fat, or levitation to shove food into their mouth to rest their flab-caked arms. 

No stress, no worries; just pleasure, pure and simple, by just mindlessly watching television and stuffing their faces. Occasionally, they would quarrel with one another about the shows or movies they were watching, but they were easily solved with a bribery snack at the end of the day. 

Thus, the three rotund young men could remain in this state for the foreseeable future, with only to worry about stuffing their faces and plumping up. With another Christmas feast and two more weeks away from college, they would undoubtedly move an inch from their spot, especially if Stiles could resist his lethargy to find a spell to create clones to attend classes. 

He would have to worry about that later. He glared at the now empty pint of ice-cream, and in mere seconds it filled with Chubby Hubby this time.


End file.
